The Bond of Strangers
by TheTrapdoorLover
Summary: A long night filled with strange, unwanted doubts and feelings has driven Gojyo to the one place he'd never thought he'd be: a bordello. There, he finds much more than he expected, and entangles himself in the life of a troubled youth.
1. Chapter 1

Gojyo was not the type who frequented bordellos. They were always dark and out of the way, hiding in plain sight. The desperation of the girls, the cunningness of the their pimps, and the reek of old, cheep perfume mixed with cigarette smoke, stale beer, sweat, sex, and pain weighed like a heavy oil on one's skin; the smell would stay with you for days even after constant scrubbing in the shower.

Besides, why would he have any reason to go to some hellhole bordello, anyway? He would have laughed in the face of whoever might have suggested that going a bordello would ever cross his mind. He would have lazed back in his chair, one of his lank arms draped carelessly over the back, and laughed from deep inside his belly that someone would even come up with such a ludicrous idea. He was _Sha Gojyo_, the infamous card shark and lady killer of the bar scene. Chicks fell into his lap after only a smile and a smoldering look from his wine red eyes. And he _never_ under any circumstances forced a girl if she wasn't into it, no matter where they were in the process when she wanted to put the breaks on. After all, where was the fun if the pleasure was just one sided? He loved to coax moans from luscious lips closed so stubbornly tight, to worship a woman's curves with his hands just to hear her sigh…there was where he truly got his kicks. The mind-blowing sex sure didn't hurt, though.

Of course, this was all before tonight. The ladies had been elusive, the cards unfriendly, and the idea of drinking alone while trying to ignore the hunger that was eating away at him like a cancer was unthinkable. Strangely enough, nothing out of the ordinary had happened to precipitate this turn of events. His nightly routine began the same way as it always had. He washed up and headed for the bar, prepared to clean house in poker and maybe find a little pleasurable company to waste the night away with. Still half way down the street from the bar, the high-pitched twittering laughs of women and the lower, rougher guffaws of men were already audible along with the clinging of glasses, scrapping of chairs against the floor, and other mindless noise. Such were the sound of his nighttime kingdom, his playground to escape the face that stared back at him every day from behind the mirror. It was his haven, his refuge, and his quarters.

So why hadn't he gone gallivanting through the doors as usual?

As he had stood there in his self-made purgatory in the middle of the road, his kingdom suddenly seemed so unappealing. He realized he didn't want to play poker against novice idiots and rob them blind while plying them with drinks. He didn't want to be smooth and bedazzle the ladies with his charm while swallowing the razor-edged simpering about the beauty of his hair and eyes. He stared at the stained stucco façade of the bar, trying to shake whatever had come over him. He took a few steps forwards, and then hesitated again, running an angry hand through his hair. What was wrong with him? Pissed off at this inexplicable change in him and comparing his behavior to that of a girl with a serious case of PMS, he thrust his hands deep into his pockets and walked off into the night.

After he had put a good distance between himself and the bar and ending up in a part of town he rarely ventured into, he knew he wanted a distraction. Considering where he was, that wouldn't be a problem. There were houses full of distractions here, with ample breasts and wide, welcoming hips. He walked with meaningful steps through his red-light district, forcing away the niggling reservations he held about actually _buying_ a girl for his bed rather than wooing her there. Gods, it did seem wrong, so unlike him…but then again, he wasn't exactly feeling like himself, anyway. Screw the reservations. He'd just chock it up to experience and put it behind him.

Once inside, however, the bravado that he had used to bolster his courage was failing hard and fast as he walked amongst the girls and other potential customers who were mingling in the foyer that the greasy pimp had led him to. Had he not been so determined to erase his earlier doubtful hesitance from his memory, he would have noticed the sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Instead of Don Juan looking for his next conquest to seduce with wine, flattery, and song, he was suddenly John Doe going through a supermarket, looking for which piece of meat he wanted to buy for dinner.

Meat.

That pretty much summed up the girls that Gojyo looked at. They displayed their goods and flirted with practiced seduction, but many of their sexy smiles failed to mask the deadness of their eyes. The one's who wore bedroom eyes weren't any better, either; it was still fake. They were just breasts, thighs, hips…meat to be devoured by uncaring mouths.

Gojyo gave himself a little mental slap. Since when did the lady-killer start acting like a timid virgin? He was here to get satisfied, not empathize with the plight of these creatures of the night. He had far more of a caring soul than he would like most people to know. Lighting the fire in his eyes, he weaved through the bodies and summed up the potential choices.

_Too dead… too much makeup…too dead…too dead…too fake…too sickly…_

No matter how many different girls he talked to, he could not find one who's touch didn't make him want to pull away. The hunger he had been feeling was dying now, as was the light in his eyes. He could never ask for anything from these girls, who were already fading into the night like shadows. He couldn't look at a pretty face ruined by too much makeup without wondering what had driven her to this end. He wanted out of this place. He would just go home, take a long, hot shower, and then go to bed like this night never happened. As he looked for the door, his eyes swept over a figure he hadn't seen before.

She was standing at the window with his back to him, her pale fingers resting against the casing of the window. Her form was lithe and slim, graceful as a cat and not too curvy, clad in black pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. Her hair was an odd cut, long at the top and shorter on the side, but it was such a tempting color: sweet dark chocolate. Despite his shame, Gojyo couldn't help but feel a tug of desire as he drank up her form. Smiling softly, he made his way over to her, placing a gentle hand on her hip.

"Hey," he breathed softly into the delicate shell of her ear, unable to say more. Asking if she wanted to go with him seemed pointless. If a customer could pay, the girl had little choice in the matter.

Gojyo held his breath as she started to turn around. He caught her face in fragmented pictures.

Eyes that must have been cared out of the purest jade known on earth or heaven, deep and expressive, rimmed with thick, dark lashes…

A soft, almost timid smile, like a shy schoolgirl might show to her sweetheart…too innocent in a place like this…

As the images came together, Gojyo's eyes widened and he pulled his hand back as if he had been burned. His coherent thoughts fled like birds on the wing, and it took with him the ability to speak as well. He simply stared for a moment before he could force the words off his clumsy tongue and numb lips.

"You…you're a _guy_!"

If he could have physically managed it, Gojyo would have gladly kicked himself in the mouth for his reaction, and his continuing to stare at the poor guy only served aggravate the remaining thread of his common sense all the more. He must have looked like the biggest ass in the world, staring with his eyes as big as dinner plates and his jaw hanging, but he just couldn't tear his gaze away. Gods, he really thought that it had been a girl! He was so…wait, what the hell was his problem today? Sorry, but he was _not_ about to start spouting poetry about some dude's looks! Trying to gather his vocabulary up off the floor where he had dropped it in that moment of shock, he started to stumble through an embarrassed apology, but—mercifully—the guy just smiled wider and waived off his pathetic attempts with a gentle laugh.

"Please, don't let it trouble you," he said in a soft tenor, an impossible mix: rich in tone and light with laughter. He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling away as if the whole incident had been his fault. "You're not the first to have done than, and I don't think you'll be the last."

Unexpectedly, Gojyo found a smile on his own lips and laughter rumbling in his chest. Why had that happened? It must have been the guy's smile. It was pretty darn infectious. Gojyo looked down at his feet and laughed, still slightly flustered from before. "Thanks for being so cool about it," he persisted. "I had no intention of offending you or anything…"

"Not at all," the smaller man insisted. Gojyo looked up from his feet and saw that a hand had been offered to him. Looking up higher, he found himself staring into those unbelievably green eyes, which were sparkling with only goodwill and amusement. How could anyone look that way in the midst of this hell?

"I'm Hakkai," the brown-haired man said, his hand still outstretched.

Gojyo took his hand and gave it a shake, the commonplace gesture seeming surreal in this place. The brief meeting of their flesh had been friendly rather than seductive, as if they were meeting at a church function instead of a run down little bordello with (mercifully) unidentifiable stains on the carpet.

"Gojyo," he answered, barely having wits about him to respond with his own name. Could it be possible that he was sharing pleasantries with some random guy right now? Hakkai didn't seem too phased by it. Hell, and if he wasn't just a little young to be in here…

"It's a pleasure to m—"

"Hey, bitch!" a gravely, metallic voice called through the room. Both Hakkai's and Gojyo's attention turned to a slightly overweight man in good quality slacks and a button down shirt soaked with sweat under the armpits. He was looking at them from behind the glinting lenses of his too small glasses. His skin was about as greasy as his hair, which was in a dire need of a washing. A five o'clock shadow stained his face. What caught Gojyo's eye was the golden watch clasped about his pudgy wrist. Damn, it didn't look fake, either… Gojyo simply shrugged it off, and turned his focus back to Hakkai. He wouldn't be so rude as to walk out of that place without so much as a quick 'bye' to the man he'd mistaken for a whore. Had Gojyo turned his head back a second later, he would have missed the streak of fear that rippled across the calm green sea of Hakkai's eyes. It happened so fast that Gojyo wondered if he had just imagined it, but Hakkai turned to him, his lips arranged into a polite, demure smile.

"I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me, Gojyo-san," he said softly, dipping his head in respect.

"Yeah, sure man. No prob," Gojyo answered, still trying to make sense of what he though he'd seen in Hakkai's eyes. When Hakkai smiled at him one last time, Gojyo realized that his smile hadn't touched his eyes. The green was dulled, like the deathly veiled eyes of just a common prostitute—sweet, demure, and sad. Hakkai turned and walked away from him. Something in the pit of Gojyo's stomach soured as he watched him head towards the man who had shouted. Had that man's hungry eyes been resting on Hakkai?

Gojyo's cavalier grin froze, and shattered when it fell off his face and hit the floor. _No, not him…_

Hakkai stood before the man, offering that sweet, innocent smile to the man, dipping his head with a grace not commonly found in men. Gojyo's pulse thudded loudly in his ears, blocking out all other sound. Like being in a movie, the frames of the scene began to slow down, playing out like some old silent film.

Hakkai's lips were moving in what must have been a greeting, but the smile melted to a look of agony as the large hand of the man came out of his pocket and grabbed at Hakkai's privates.

Hard.

Gojyo felt bile rise up in his throat as instead of pushing him away, Hakkai simply bit his lip and shut his eyes, enduring the groping with inhuman patience. Gojyo swallowed back the need to vomit, but his head continued to reel. The world blurred around him. Soon there nothing was left but Hakkai's pale face creased with pain, and the sadistic bastard who was hurting him. A knife through the heart would have felt better than the vague wondering of Hakkai's purpose there suddenly becoming a terrible, blinding white truth

_No, Gods, no… _

Hakkai was a prostitute.


	2. Chapter 2

One of the first and most important rules for keeping your teeth in your mouth and your bones unbroken in the rough world of bars, poker, and women: avoid getting involved in someone else's fight at all possible costs.

Of course, as this was the first and most important rule, it was only natural that it was the one Gojyo ignored the most.

The redhead seemed to have a talent for finding trouble. Even when the trouble did not reach out and grab him, it would erupt around him, inviting him to jump in. Standing idle was never his thing, anyway. If some prick who had it coming to him found himself at the receiving end of some pissed off fists, Gojyo saw no problem with adding some blacks and blues to the abstract art the jerk's skin was turning into. Despite being a rabble-rouser, he did keep a loose set of rules for himself. He never hit a lady. Even if she hit first, he'd never raise a hand against any woman. It just went against the grain, maybe because of all the psychological damage he suffered during his childhood—not that he cared to think about that time and examine how mentally screwed up he really was. And lo to the man he caught mistreating a lady; Gojyo's retribution was swift and terrible. He wasn't some crusader for women, though. Gojyo wasn't noble. He'd sooner be dammed than get the reputation of being noble.

It just gave him a sick feeling to watch such pretty things be hurt…

…which summed up how he felt about watching that prick feel up Hakkai.

The shock of learning what Hakkai was wore of quickly as his expression of breathless agony etched itself onto Gojyo's eyes with a red-hot touch; the scene burned like he were staring into fire. Five long-legged strides brought him over to the heavy businessman, who was too pleasurably engrossed in tenderly violating the privates of the fragile young man. Gojyo pulled his arm back, his callous, nicotine-stained fingers curling into a rock hard fist. Right before he released the tension in his muscles, he watched as Hakkai's opened slightly. Not truly seeing anything and watery form the pain, the plea there was inescapable.

_Someone kill me…_

Gojyo barely felt his fist collide against the side of the man's head. In the time of a single breath, the man crumpled to the ground like some ugly rag doll and Hakkai, who's pain-weakened knees balked at the sudden weight thrown on them, fell into Gojyo protective arms. Those who were close enough to notice and care about the scuffle turned their eyes to the fallen man, with mixed emotions. The red eyes of Gojyo smiled in how easily he had taken this sorry ass down, but the green eyes of Hakkai only stared in fright, dreading what was going to come next.

"Gojyo," Hakkai whispered in perfect terror, and Gojyo's thrill of victory died as he turned to hear the unspoken words in those green eyes. _What have you done? _

The man began to groan and stir on the floor, which Gojyo gracefully took that as his cue to leave. His arm still tight around Hakkai, he maneuvered them quickly through the sea of people wandering about the foyer, looking for the pimp in the tacky fedora. Hakkai remained as silent as the grave as he moved through the other girls for rent, and Gojyo could almost taste the resignation from his unresisting form.

At last he caught sight of the fedora standing by the door on top of the head of a thin, wry ghost of a man who's clothes were much finer than those of his girls. Big surprise there.

"Him. I want him," Gojyo said with such conviction that the pimp raised his skinny eyebrow in mild surprise. Then it was all silky sweet smiles and poisoned charm.

"Ah, a good choice, sir. An excellent choice. Hakkai here pleases very well, and is very open to whatever your heart desires," the pimp fairly purred. Gojyo wanted to puke all over that creeps shiny patent leather shoes.

"Yeah, yeah," Gojyo muttered, thrusting his hand into his pocket to fish out his wallet. He hoped his cheeks weren't red. Damn were they _burning_ right now. "How much for the night?"

"I'm afraid Hakkai's a little on the expensive side," the pimp said sympathetically. "There aren't too many locations in the area that offer boys, so he's a bit of a house special. Very sweet I've been told." Gojyo tried not to look too disgusted. It sounded like he was describing an item from a restaurant menu rather than a living, breathing human being. The pimp wasn't even faltering. Gojyo was nearly drowning in all that grease. "Since I haven't seen you here before, though, I'm going to cut you a little deal. I'll say four hundred for the night."

Gojyo's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Four hundred.

Four hundred f-ing dollars.

Damn if that wasn't everything he had and then some! Thank the gods he hadn't gone out to buy booze that night first, and then gone and played some badass poker. He was never one to back down from raising the pot a little more when he knew he had a good hand. Four hundred was going to hurt him badly. Four hundred meant no booze, no smokes, and scraping by for a damn long while. Time seemed to slow down around him for the second time that night as a heavy thought slapped him hard across the face.

Why the hell was he doing this?

Less than five minutes ago, he hadn't even known this jade-eyed man, this chocolate haired _prostitute_ even existed. He wasn't this guy's protector; being groped by sleazy creeps was just part of the territory for someone in this line of work. Occupational hazard, right? Gojyo's arms loosened around Hakkai. The one part of his fractured identity he was certain of was his sexual preference. Lush thighs, round, soft breasts, and gentle sloping curves were what made his nights bearable. So why the hell was he even considering buying him for the night? It sure as hell wasn't so he could sleep with him, that's for sure! There were no obligations, no responsibilities tying him to this man. He owed him nothing.

Worst of all was looking up and seeing those thoughts mirrored exactly in those green eyes.

Before the shoddy words about the price being a bit out of his range could dance from his lips on a shaking, nervous laugh, Hakkai already knew what Gojyo was going to say. More than that, he understood and accepted it without the slightest hint of anger or sadness in his eyes. Gojyo found his breath stolen, having never known until that moment that eyes could speak a language more precise than the tongue could utter. Tearing himself away from those too-kind eyes, Gojyo pulled out his wallet and thrust all the crumpled money from within into the pimp's waiting hand, who called out a merry "have fun!" as Gojyo dragged Hakkai away from that house.

Gojyo's feet pounded against the pavement, taking long, mindless strides, trying not to think too much of the place he had left. Concentrating on the rhythm of his steps, he forced the sharp night air into his lungs. He had never been so close to vomiting while sober. His mind was awash with things he couldn't understand, like trying to comprehend a foreign language while intoxicated. He was hardly an innocent—that right had been taken from him as a child— but watching how Hakkai hid behind that smile as a hard hand touched him left him trembling. He was so lost in the maze of his thoughts that it came as a shock to find himself just outside the small house where he lived. It was even more of a shock to learn that he had walked the whole way there with his hand still tightly entwined with Hakkai's.

"This is my place," Gojyo said clumsily, using trying to find his keys as his opportunity to untangle their fingers. Shit, if anyone had seen them like that, with their fingers embracing like lovers walking under the cover of the night… Gojyo's stomach gave another lurch. If Hakkai noticed Gojyo's distress, he chose not to let on, and kept up his gentle smile even as Gojyo had a little bit of trouble unlocking his door.

The inside of the house wasn't an unfamiliar scene to Hakkai, but he always made note of each new place he was brought to. It helped to have something else to think about, even if it was committing a place's décor (or lack there of) to memorize. The house seemed cleaner than some places he had been before, but it was still cluttered and in need of upkeep. The furnishings were utilitarian in the main room—a table with some chairs and well worn in couch. Hakkai assumed it was safe to say the rest of the house was outfitted similarly. The smell of cigarette smoke clung to the place, adding to the bouquet of beer and take-out Chinese food.

"You can sit if you want," Gojyo volunteered from behind him, his unease peeking through the veneer of aloof coolness he was trying to put on. Hakkai politely shook his head. His legs were aching, but he could only imagine the pain that would accompany sitting. Gojyo was not by any means his first customer of the day, and his most recent hadn't been very gentle.

Gojyo merely shrugged and walked over to his fridge. "Something to drink?"

"No, thank you." An awkward silence filled the room. The redhead crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter top, suddenly finding the random dots on the cheep drop ceiling terribly fascinating.

"If you'll forgive me, Gojyo-san," Hakkai pressed on, daring to break the quiet between them, "I'm uncertain as to what is expected of me."

Gojyo looked up sharply like he had been kicked. Did Hakkai really think that he had bought him for _that_ reason?

"Look, man, I'm straight, so don't you go trying anything on me," he growled far harsher than he had intended. Once again, he wanted to kick himself in the mouth. Damn it all, he couldn't do or say anything right tonight! He was the one who'd barged in, punched out one of his customers, dragged him here, and now he was telling him off!

"Shit, sorry, I didn't mean it like that… this night's just gotten pretty weird for me," he finished lamely, but Hakkai merely nodded in that inhuman understanding of his.

"It's alright, though if you'll forgive my persistence, perhaps you would not mind explaining what your intentions are."

"Damned if I know," Gojyo said on a mirthless laugh as he sank down into a wooden chair by the kitchen table. How was he going to cover his lame ass now? "Sorry I made such a mess back there for you. I hope you're not going to get it for my stupidity, but that guy…"

"Oku," Hakkai filled for him with a nod. His smile was growing softer, almost pensive. The name alone could make him shudder, like his hands were still hot on his body. "He tends to get a little…carried away…"

Gojyo's heart tightened. He didn't want to think about the reasons why it did. "You know him?"

Hakkai nodded, his dim eyes resting on the floor. "He's a regular customer of mine."

Gojyo nodded in turn, staring mutely at the old wooden table. He never learned the words for a situation like this, didn't know the sentences or phrases that might cut through the steadily falling hopelessness. They never taught this kind of stuff in school. From the company he kept, he knew how to charm and seduce. He could look out for himself fine, but confronted with real misery masked by gentleness, he found himself in a game he didn't know how to play. When he looked up from his thoughts, Hakkai was already looking at him, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Gojyo-san," he said in a voice that wasn't meant to seduce, but still stuck a chord somewhere deep in Gojyo's being. "You didn't buy me for the night because of what happened at the bordello, did you?"

Gojyo flushed. It seemed the night was out to break him. _This has gotta be a dream…_

"Well, what was I supposed to do? No way I was gonna let you take the heat for what I did," he said, purposely leaving out how watching that prick who disgraced the name Oku had made him ill. Any worries he might have had about offending Hakkai with the real reason he had chosen him for the night vanished when he saw a hint of a smile reach his eyes.

"You're too kind, Gojyo-san," he said quietly. His voice was sweet with gratitude. Gojyo didn't need to wonder if it were real or just some act. "But you didn't need to do that. I would have been fine. I can't help but feel that my presence here is making you uncomfortable though," he continued before Gojyo could say anything more, freezing the smile that had started to form on the red-head's lips. "And four hundred dollars is a great deal of money to spend on nothing. Perhaps you would like to return to the bordello and ask for your money back. I'm sure if you explained the situation, you would get a full refund. Then you would be able to get a girl to your liking."

Was this sort of talk common of prostitutes? Did regular customers simply get used to the idea of returning people like they were appliances that didn't work? Sure, he had a valid point, but Gojyo knew that if he did as he suggested, karma would certainly come and bite him in the ass big time.

Not to mention he'd never be able to look at himself again in the mirror.

"You wanted to know what's expected of you?" he said, words coming easier to him now. "You're expected to take the night off, that's what. Relax and grab some shuteye. And drop the whole Gojyo-san thing," he added with a crooked grin. "I'm not Gojyo-san. I'm Gojyo. Just Gojyo."

A look of protest crossed Hakkai's eyes. He opened his mouth, but said nothing.

To Gojyo, the smile that Hakkai gave him was well worth the fourhundred bucks.


	3. Chapter 3

Paying four hundred bucks, it seemed, had bought him a smile from a male hooker and all expense paid trip to his shitty little couch in the living room where he was trying to ignore its dust smell while attempting to count all the little dots on the tiles of his cheap drop-in ceiling. Those little dots were complete bastards, though. No matter how hard he strained his eyes, those dots started to glow and dance around in the darkness. He tried blinking, then not blinking, then all the various dot counting techniques that he pulled out of his ass, but the little fuckers just wouldn't stay put for two god damn seconds.

He had to wonder, was the day ever going to end? Or, was it determined to linger like a cancer, eating away at him until there was nothing left? He needed to sleep. He needed to put this day behind him, so he could forget it ever happened. Tomorrow night, he'd be back to normal. He'd go back to the bar, get his cash, some beer, and get a few good fucks in with a chick. And it would all come tomorrow… that was, if this day would fucking end all ready. Gojyo sighed heavily. Just like cliché out of a god damn harlequin romance novel, he just couldn't fucking fall asleep.

It was probably because of those pathetic little moans coming from the bedroom that he was pretending not to hear, just like he definitely hadn't heard the breathless gasp of pain that accompanied the slow creak of the box spring after Gojyo had finally managed to convince his reluctant guest to take his bed for the night. Christ, getting him into that bed was like trying like trying to coax an injured animal in from the wild. It had been all soft, polite protests and little bows before he agreed. And now, if the soft noises from the bedroom were any indication, Hakkai wasn't even enjoying it.

…meaning that he was sleeping on the couch for fucking nothing…

Driven by the maddening restlessness of his sleepless night, Gojyo hauled himself out of the body-shaped indent his weight had created in the cheap foam cushions and headed for the bedroom. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do once he got there, though. Maybe make some wise crack like the asshole he was about Hakkai's little moans. He was good with stuff like that. The more vulgar or faker it was, the better. It was this real, soul-bearing, sensitive shit he didn't get.

Leaning his shoulder against the doorway, he watched as Hakkai slept in his bed. An odd feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. Not only was it weird to have a young man under the covers of a bed he routinely slept (and did other things) in, but it was even weirder because it didn't feel that weird to him at all.

…if that made any sense… his brain sure didn't want to work at the moment.

The moonlight seemed unnaturally bright as fell on the restless body under those covers. Gojyo would have discounted the stupid moon as yet another cheep romance novel cliché had the sight not made his breath catch in his throat. Moonlight in and of itself was a strange thing, illuminating but casting no actual light. Whatever the hell made it do that was also doing a wonder on Hakkai's face. His skin was like living alabaster, the visage of a statute that would have been beautiful if it hadn't been twisting in agony. His face, twisted in pain like the sheets were twisted about his too thin body as it tossed and turned, back arching…

…back arching in a way that was too sensual for a common night terror. It was exquisite, the soft moaning sounds falling from his lips making—

Gojyo abruptly shook his head, staggering backwards in horror.

What the fuck was he thinking?

He needed to clear his head, and to do that, he needed sleep. To sleep, he needed to quiet Hakkai, which meant waking him. No sooner had Gojyo sat down on the edge of the bed were green eyes wide open, but still unseeing and hazy with sleep. Gojyo kicked himself inside; he sure as hell hadn't meant to scare the guy awake. For a few moments, the sound of Hakkai's uneven breaths filled the room. Gojyo couldn't bring himself to speak first. Who the hell knew what come out of his mouth tonight when he was pretty damned certain he was trapped in some twilight zone?

"Gojyo-san?" his green-eyed visitor finally managed. He was no longer confused as to who was sitting besides him; he doubted very much anyone could forget that striking shade of red hair. Why he was sitting there, though, was still unclear.

Gojyo just nodded, focused on keeping his face neutral. He didn't want Hakkai getting any of the wrong ideas. "You were having a nightmare." _No, really, Gojyo. You think that's news to him? _

Gojyo watched as those amazing jade eyes quickly hid behind a mask of apologies. "I'm terribly sorry, did I wake you?"

Before Gojyo could even speak, Hakkai was trying to get up into a sitting position in the bed—not a smart thing to do judging by the way his body trembled in protest, and the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly with the effort. He still looked like he was in pain.

"Oi, easy there. Don't sit up." Before he even realized what he was doing, Gojyo had wrapped his arm about Hakkai's shoulder, letting the guy lean on him. Gojyo would have been seriously concerned about how cozy he had suddenly made everything if he hadn't been preoccupied with how Hakkai's breathing still hadn't evened out. "You okay, man?"

"I'm fine, Gojyo-san," he insisted as he arranged his face into a smile. Perhaps it might have been convincing to his other customers, but it was the most painfully fake thing Gojyo had ever seen, especially considering how it only took one slight and ultimately wrong shift in the way he was sitting to make his face crumple in agony as a tight breath passed through his clenched teeth. Gojyo gave Hakkai his "you're full of shit" look. This guy was _not_ fine.

"Ah, just a few strained muscles," Hakkai laughed softly, hoping to waive off his odd customer's concerns. Concern made him hurt. Lust he knew how to deal with. The want and desire of other's were shoved down his throat daily. And with each day he passed, he died a little more inside until all the wounds had healed leaving behind nothing but numb, hard scar tissue. Concern was like treating those wounds; they stung being cleaned, and they only left new, soft skin behind when they were gone, skin that could be hurt again. Lying to Gojyo now was easier than having the truth tear his lips: his other customers hadn't been gentle… "Please, there's no need for concern."

"Yeah, there is," Gojyo insisted, not caring on whether his voice and eyes were soft, or what anyone at the bar would think if they ever saw him like this with another guy. Fuck 'em all. He was just being a decent human being for once. Nothing wrong with that. "You're still shaking."

If Gojyo weren't Gojyo, he would have tightened his arms around him. He would have asked him if he wanted to talk about the dream that had frightened him into a cold sweat, and would have offered to spend the rest of the night by his side. "Try and get some more sleep," was what awkwardly fell off his tongue instead, easing his body back down onto the mattress. He could feel his ribs through the shirt and through his skin. It was obvious Hakkai was not a healthy young man. Young man, shit, how old was Hakkai? His face was ageless, innocent. Twenty-two? Sixteen? He realized with a lurch of his stomach he really didn't want to know how old the prostitute was.

Hakkai didn't have the energy to protest. He whispered some words of thanks, and then was asleep again.

Gojyo wanted to touch that sleeping skin, but his fingers didn't twitch. He wasn't like that.

He wasn't.

And in his sleep, he saw green eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

After the morning, Gojyo would never see the green eyed prostitute again. Hakkai would return to the bordello and Gojyo would return to his routine of booze, poker, and sex he didn't have to pay for. Sex with women. Women in his bed, not green eyed, brown haired whores. He'd chock it up to experience, something that would buy him a few brownie points in the grand scheme of things, maybe even shave a few years of his stay in purgatory or some dumb shit like that. The stream of life would continue to flow down its pointless path.

He sure as fuck was not supposed to be standing in front of the same god damn bordello a two weeks later, already feeling the base laden music blasting from inside in his teeth when he was still three yards away, but whatever. Nothing ever went like it was supposed to.

Gojyo's flawless plans of putting the whole whore thing behind him started going awry the morning after Hakkai had slept at his place when Hakkai had ended up cooking breakfast for them both while Gojyo looked on, seriously considering the chance that he had maybe been knocked unconscious in some bar fight, and all of this was a dream he was having while in a coma.

Because, yeah, the male prostitute who was wearing his spare pjs and had slept in his bed was cooking scrambled eggs in his kitchen, and that wasn't strange at all, was it?

Gojyo quickly found that there was just no reasoning with Hakkai, who apparently liked to cook, didn't have the chance to cook often, and would rather not have stale corn flakes instead of eggs for breakfast.

Gojyo also quickly found that Hakkai was one damn good cook.

Walking slowly towards the bordello and watching the windows shiver with the base line, Gojyo reasoned that his plans to never cross paths with Hakkai again could have been saved despite the scrambled eggs. The final straw was Hakkai mentioning with that smile of his that the bordello was hosting a dance / social gathering of sorts two weeks from the day. Gojyo had tried everything he could to forget that date. He bedded almost every woman who looked his way, played poker until his opponents got sick of loosing, and drank like a fish, but he still couldn't forget that fucking smile and that fucking date.

"…_two weeks from today. You might meet a girl who'll spark your interest."_

Hah, fat chance in hell he'd ever get a girl from that fucking dive when he had the whole town at his disposal, but he walked through the door of the bordello anyway. The air was thick with the familiar scents of sex and sweat. As bodies grinded in time to the pounding music, some couples in the corners seemed game to take things a few steps further. Gojyo had never felt dirtier in his life, and that was sure as fuck saying something. He didn't want to be here, and he didn't want a girl, and yet he was standing in the thick of it, surrounded by the dregs of humanity.

_Hakkai smiled. "And I might just get to see you again." _

Gojyo sighed, twisting his hand in his hair. "God damn it all to fucking hell."

Trying to find Hakkai in the sea of people quickly proved more difficult than he thought. He really didn't want any girl trying to come onto him, or bump into people who were otherwise engaged in things he really didn't want to watch. All this just to say hi to some fucking whore. And just what the hell was he going to say to him? Hi Hakkai, how was your day? How many people did sleep with? It was ridiculous. It was pointless. It scared the hell out of him more than his pride ever would let him say. He needed to get out of the hellhole of a bordello before he saw any green eyes or brown hair.

And then he saw him.

Even with the distance between them, it was obvious that Hakkai was not a healthy young man. The circles under his eyes were dark enough to make it look as though Hakkai had been on the receiving end of two well aimed fists—hell, maybe he had. His skin was pale, but not the snowy, good kind of pale Gojyo remembered. He prayed it was just the shitty lighting in the room, but Hakkai's skin looked yellowish, like an old drum skin that had been stretched too tight. Even his hair was limp, but Hakkai distress apparently escaped the man who was "dancing" with him, that same overweight businessman with the sweaty armpits and greasy hair. Those square hands held Hakkai's thin body close to his and forced it to rock in time to the music.

Gojyo had almost reached the two when Hakkai pulled away from Oku as the song ended, bowing deeply before heading towards another door to the outside. Gojyo quickly followed, hoping to reach Hakkai before anyone else did. By the time he had weaved through the bodies and into the fresh air, Hakkai was doubled over, coughing like he was going to choke up a lung. Agony was etched into every line of his too thin body.

And then Gojyo was at Hakkai's side, helping him to stand. Damn, he was warm… way too warm even if he had been dancing.

Hakkai wiped his mouth clean on the back of his hand and turned his glassy eyes upwards. Gojyo watched in disbelief as a smile turned the corners of those bloodless lips.

"Gojyo-san, you came after all…" Hakkai's eyelids fluttered, and his knees threatened to give. Gojyo caught the extra weight easily; there was almost nothing to this kid.

"Shit, Hakkai…. I gotta get you out of here."

Hakkai shook his head. "I have a customer. He already paid. I can't leave with you tonight."

Inside the music shifted to something slower, though the tempo change did absolutely nothing to help the general quality. Hakkai's smile seemed to glow with an inner peace, some fevered joy that Gojyo would never be able to comprehend. Suddenly he found himself speechless in the snare of those sparkling green eyes.

"Do you dance, Gojyo-san?" Hakkai asked quietly.

Gojyo started dumbly for a moment before he remembered he had the power to speak. "What?"

"Do you dance?"

"Like, what do you mean? _Dance_ dance? Ballroom?" Gojyo didn't understand, and doubted sincerely that he ever would. How could he smile like that after everything he's been through? Where does he find it within himself to get up and face another day when he already knew what was waiting for him. How the hell could he still be so god damn beautiful…

Wait…

Hakkai laughed a little and Gojyo winced as the sound rasped in his lungs. "I doubt I could manage the quick step right now. Perhaps another time."

Gojyo's mouth went dry as Hakkai closed the distance between their bodies. Gojyo could feel the heat of Hakkai's fever flowing into him, burning him. Hakkai must have been in some serious pain, but his eyes were like a dreamer's: lost and at peace. Gojyo's skin tingled as ivory arms wrapped around his neck, and a head covered in soft, chocolate brown hair came to rest against his shoulder.

Holy hell…

Gojyo placed his hands on Hakkai's waist. His heart was fluttering madly, but he was too shocked to even consider feeling annoyed that he, Sha Gojyo, ladies man extraordinaire, just had his breath stolen by a man. For one guilty moment, Gojyo was glad Hakkai was sick. It allowed him to discount Hakkai's advances as feverish delusions and gave him a reason for not holding on to him as long as something deep inside wanted to. He could claim that it was worry for Hakkai's health that caused him to draw away, not that he was too cowardly to examine why his heart was beating so god damn fucking fast.

But Hakkai _was_ trembling.

"Forget your customer," Gojyo muttered. "I'm getting you the hell out of here."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all. Sorry to have kept you waiting.

The trip back to the apartment was hell, but Gojyo knew that it was much harder on Hakkai than it was for him. Afraid that that sonofabitch Oku might notice that his purchase had vanished and someone had set the dogs on them, Gojyo forsook the main road in favor for the forest that flanked its side. Sure, it wasn't great cover, but it was better than being in plain sight on the road. With his arm flung around Gojyo's shoulders and Gojyo's arm wrapped around his thin waist, Hakkai stumbled and tripped through the underbrush and murmured breathless apologies in between barely stifled fits of coughing. Gojyo winced at every sound of pain and every moment Hakkai's legs gave out on him and left Gojyo no other choice than to drag him along.

It was painful to be so close to him. Even through their clothing, Gojyo could feel the heat of Hakkai's fever, like the flames consuming the sick man's body were licking at his own chest, seeking entrance. Hakkai's head lolled, coming to rest on Gojyo's shoulder. The smell of Hakkai's hair made him want to wretch. Cheep cologne and sex clung to him with the stubbornness of the cigarette smoke Gojyo knew so well. Hell, he probably smelled the same way; going into that "dance" for even a minute would leave a person covered in the thick stench. It just seemed so wrong on Hakkai, like its weight could crush the frail man beside him.

Gojyo had never been happier to see his piece of shit apartment than he was as he brought Hakkai inside, setting him down on the couch while he went to lock the door. The deadbolt squeaked in surprise at being used as the tumbler slid home. Gojyo rarely bothered to lock his doors upon returning, either too drunk or too caught up in a woman to remember. Unless someone wanted to steal some old porno magazines and instant coffee, he'd never had anything important to protect.

Until now.

No longer distracted from his pain by the effort of walking, Hakkai took to moaning softly through clenched teeth, like he were reluctant to make a sound. Looking at him, Gojyo felt the cold hands of panic grabbing him. He didn't need a doctor to tell him that Hakkai was in a bad way and that the aspirin he kept in the house for his hangovers wasn't going to do a thing here. No, a doctor could actually help, not stand there like some idiot.

"God damn it," he breathed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to get it together enough to figure out what he should do first to help Hakkai. He failed noticed that his hands were shaking.

He was going to get a doctor, that was for sure, but something didn't sit right with someone seeing Hakkai in those clothes. He didn't know why. It was probably stupid as fuck of him, but he never considered himself to be the brightest apple in the bunch.

"I'm gonna get you some clean clothes," Gojyo told the man who responded with a slight nod of his head. Judging by the glassy look in his eyes, Gojyo figured that Hakkai would agree to almost anything now. And Oku had wanted to have sex with him. More than wanted to, Gojyo realized as he headed into his bedroom and tore through his drawers to try to find something comfortable and clean for Hakkai to wear. Had Gojyo not bothered to go back to the hell hole, Hakkai would have gone with that man and he would have given himself as he was. It made Gojyo want to puke.

When Gojyo returned with an armful of messily folded clothes, Hakkai had quieted and his eyes had closed. His skin looked like ash in the light and his lips had the color of old parchment. Gojyo found that watching the rise and fall of Hakkai's chest, shallow as it was, was a wonderful comfort. Too caught up in his haste and fear, he never bothered to stop and wonder when he had started to care so much.

Gojyo sat down on the couch, feeling almost guilty as he tried to wake Hakkai. He couldn't do this without at least telling Hakkai first. He gently shook his shoulder. "Hey, man. Open your eyes for a sec, okay?"

Reluctantly, the green eyes peeled themselves open to slits. "Nn?"

Gojyo swallowed. "I'm gonna get you out of these clothes, all right? I've got clean ones for you. Then, I'm going to get a doctor, 'kay?"

Even as Hakkai's eyes were beginning to close again, Gojyo kept talking.

"He's a friend of mine. A good guy. Really knows his stuff. Fixed a couple of things I've busted a long the way a time or two. He'll fix you up good as new, too."

Hakkai was as unresisting as a rag doll as Gojyo pulled off his shirt and threw it to the floor. His heaving chest glistened with sweat. Gojyo could count ever rib. As he undressed him, he tried his damnedest not to touch Hakkai's skin. Every accidental touch made his hands shake. The more they shook, the more he talked until talking became rambling and Hakkai was at last dressed and lying prone on the couch. For lack of a better washcloth, Gojyo wet his bandana and wiped the sheen of sweat from Hakkai's face.

"I'm going to get the doctor," he said softly even though Hakkai had clearly lost consciousness long ago. After a frantic (and mercifully brief) search for his keys, Gojyo was running through the crisp night air, forcing his legs to work faster as he ran to the house of his doctor-friend for all his pathetic, half-breed hide was worth.

Gojyo's head was reeling by the time the doctor left. Pneumonia, said the doctor who had learned a long time ago to never pry into Gojyo's affairs any more than was necessary. A bad case of pneumonia. One of the worst he'd ever seen, even. He gave Hakkai a shot in the arm and Gojyo a bottle with white pills in them to be given to Hakkai twice a day. With little food, preferably, if his stomach could stand it. At least a little milk or some crackers. If he has trouble swallowing, gently rub two fingers up and down his throat to help. Chills, elevated heart rate, and painful breathing are symptoms. Coughing blood is as well. And if the symptoms get worst, Gojyo was to bring the doctor back right away.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Gojyo sighed, tugging his hand over his face while he sat on the floor and Hakkai slept on the couch. It felt like he'd been up the entire night even though it was still early for him. Taking advantage of Hakkai's relatively peaceful sleep, Gojyo got to his feet and went into the kitchen to make some instant coffee. He had the horrible feeling that if he closed his eyes, Hakkai would be gone when he woke.

_Gone_ gone. He refused to think about it in any other terms and tried not to think about it at all. Instead, he focused completely on filling the kettle and setting it on the stove. That, and trying to think of a way to pass the night until morning. No fucking way was he going to sleep tonight.


	6. Chapter 6

The last sickly sliver of moon peeked through the bedroom window, its wan gaze lighting upon the two figures inside. It watched as the one with hair like garnet sat on the bedside and helped the young man with dark hair to sit up. The latter was wracked with coughing and clutched feebly at his chest. The tissue the former held to his mouth soon glistened with dark stains, and the moon's greedy light smiled. Perhaps it'd carry off a soul on its weakening beams.

When day sat on the cusp of night, Gojyo was convinced that Hakkai was going to die.

The only time he'd ever seen someone shake so hard was when some kid in the market had some sort of seizure and that was because he had had epi-something. Hakkai just had a fucking fever, for Christ's sake. Gojyo had moved him to the bed and covered him with every blanket and sheet he owned, going so far as to raid his closet for any sweaters he owned, but Hakkai still shivered. Then the coughing started. Gojyo had held him upright so he wouldn't choke on whatever was coming up. Gojyo murmured mindless words of (what he hoped was) comfort.

Now Gojyo watched helplessly from the doorway, déjà vu creeping over him the way the mist covers the land before dawn. Hakkai was moaning again, but there was nothing sensual about any of this. The sound rattled out of his chest bit at Gojyo's skin. There must be poison in those fangs; his chest felt so goddamn tight. A wastebasket full of blood and phlegm-stained tissues overflowed in a corner.

Gojyo stood in silence until, in a moment of exhausted desperation, Gojyo kicked off his boots and crawled under the covers. He refused to think as he pulled Hakkai's body against his own and wrapped his arms tight about him. His thoughts, however, refused to listen to him. They chased themselves around, one trying to reassure another. It was fine what he was doing. He was just trying to keep him from shaking like that. He could hurt himself, right? With the way his teeth were chattering, he might chip a tooth or something. This would also help keep him warm. Beds with two people sharing them could get plenty warm. It was fine.

Hakkai moaned again and Gojyo flinched.

"It's all right, Hakkai," he whispered through clenched teeth, his arms tightening just a little. "It's all right." He closed his eyes against the darkness, his final thought drifting on the edges of unconsciousness.

At least Hakkai wouldn't have to die alone.

The next time Gojyo opened his eyes, the sunlight was shining through his bedroom window and he had no recollection of having fallen asleep. It sure as hell didn't feel like he'd gotten any sleep. He was contemplating rolling back over to try and get just a little more shut eye when memory hit him like a seven-forty-seven. Gojyo's arms were still draped over Hakkai. Gojyo froze. What if when he looked up, Hakkai was…? Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and braced himself for the worst.

Green eyes smiled at him. "Good morning, Gojyo-san. Did you sleep well?"

Gojyo stared for a moment, his mouth hanging open just slightly as every emotion he'd felt the night before hit him with the intensity of a speeding truck. With a weak, incredulous laugh, he hung his head and tried to get a grip on himself. He needed to keep it together. For Hakkai's sake, he told himself even as his pride informed him that it'd be damned if he cried now.

"Yeah," he replied eventually, finding the grin on his face to be impossible to remove. Relief he allowed himself to feel and he let it wash over him in waves. "Damn, you scared the hell out of me last night."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, you don't. Don't you dare apologize. I'm just glad that you're, well… I'm glad that I didn't wake up to something—" Gojyo paled a bit. Oh, yeah. He'd slept next to Hakkai. More than next to: the guy was still pretty well entwined in his arms. He probably owed him an explanation for that. "Ah, yeah… see, you were shaking like crazy, and I didn't—I mean, you seemed so cold, so I thought that—"

"That lending me your body heat with help break my fever," Hakkai finished for him, giving him a gentle smile. When he had woken, he saw the mountain of blankets and jackets that had been piled on him and understood why Gojyo was sleeping close besides him. It was strange, though: having those arms holding him so close to that chest was oddly comforting in ways the touch of another person hadn't been in years.

"Yeah, that," Gojyo said gratefully. He placed a hand on Hakkai's forehead. It was a gesture he'd seen countless times. He really had no idea how accurate it was. Maybe moms just had some sixth sense where they could tell the exact degree of a person's fever. Well, moms who gave a shit, anyway. "You're fever's gone down. I think," he concluded lamely.

"The chills are gone at the very least."

Gojyo nodded. He knew he really should be moving away from Hakkai. The guy wasn't shaking anymore, but Hakkai didn't seem to mind. Not to mention the idea of letting him go wasn't exactly appealing to Gojyo.

"So, the doctor left some medicine for you to take. One pill twice a day with some food. Do you think you could stomach eating a little something?" Or a large something. Gojyo was certain he could break Hakkai in half if he really wanted to, he was so frail. "I can bring it you in here. I don't want you getting up anymore than you have to. You need to rest." Gojyo's motherly tirade trailed off as Hakkai's smile slipped from his face. "Hey, what's wrong? You feelin' okay? Need something?"

"You've done such a foolish thing," Hakkai said quietly as he looked away.

Gojyo's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I had a customer for last night who had already paid for my services. When I return, they'll—"

"Who says you're going back there?" Gojyo asked defiantly.

Hakkai stared at him. "You couldn't possibly mean for me to stay here."

"And what if I did?"

"They'd come looking for me, and when they found me…" Hakkai shivered. "I've seen what they do to girls who try to run away and to those whom they suspect have hidden them. I could never ask you to take such a risk."

"You don't need to ask because I'm already going to do it."

"I wont have it. You don't understand—"

"I'm not letting you go back to the hell hole!"

"Listen to me!" Hakkai fell into a fit of coughing.

"Damn it," Gojyo ground out guiltily as he quickly as he helped Hakkai to sit up with all the care and tenderness that his voice lacked. He rubbed Hakkai's back as he continued to cough, not knowing what else to do. He bit his lip. Hakkai still looked like death warmed over. The fit left him panting and trembling all over again.

"I'm sorry," Gojyo murmured and laid him back down once he had caught his breath. "I shouldn't have lost my cool, but I'm not letting you go back to that place," he added before Hakkai could speak again. "Hakkai, this isn't some cold you've got. It's pneumonia. The doctor said you've got it real bad, too. You need rest to get better, and if you're trying to service your customers that ain't gonna happen."

"Gojyo-san…"

"And how the fuck that perverted bastard could have even dreamed of taking you to bed last night is fucking sick. You could barely stand on your own and he was going to—" Gojyo bit the inside of his cheek and took a deep breath through his nose. He couldn't loose his temper. "You could have died last night, Hakkai."

Hakkai turned his face away. "Maybe its what I deserved."

"No one deserves that." _Except for perverted bastards like your customers._

"You can't say what I deserve. You don't know me," Hakkai challenged and, after a moment, Gojyo nodded in agreement.

"You're right. I don't know you, but I want to and I am not letting you go back to that place. To hell with whatever happens because of that. I don't care what you've done or what you think you deserve. All I care about right now is that you're sick and we've got to get your medicine into you."

Hakkai slowly turned to look at Gojyo. A tear slipped down from the corner of an emerald eye. Gojyo's confidence crumbled.

"Don't do that," Gojyo murmured. "Don't cry." _I can't stand it when pretty girls cry… only you aren't a girl, but it hurts just the same._

"If you only knew what I've done," Hakkai began thickly, but Gojyo hushed him.

"We've all got our ghosts." Gojyo hesitated. "Will you stay?"

Hakkai closed his eyes. He was quiet for so long that Gojyo wondered if he had fallen back to sleep. Then a sweet sound filled the room.

"Yes."


End file.
